Legolas took the Man by the arm, led him through the door and into an empty
room, “I cannot do this!” Aragorn cried.
Legolas could see the despair in his eyes, in those icy blue depths that he
had gazed into so many times before. Where there had been courage, he now
saw only desperation. The Ranger’s steady hands were now shaking and
grasping at the Elf’s tunic, trying to hold himself up, to stop from sliding
down the cold stone wall onto the floor. Legolas held on tightly to the
Man’s shoulders as sobs quaked through his body.
The Elf found that, although he felt he needed to calm and reassure him, he
couldn't find the right words. All he could do was offer his delicate,
yet strong embrace. Aragorn leaned forwards and laid his head against
Legolas’ chest, closing his eyes as tears made their journey down his
already wet cheeks.
Legolas wrapped his arms around the Ranger and began to whisper soft words
in the Elven-tongue into the Man’s ear. He brought his hand up to stroke
dark hair and ran his fingers through the tangled strands as if trying to
comfort a child.
The Ranger calmed slightly at feeling the strength of the Archer’s chest,
the rhythmic beating of his heart and the gentle touch of his hand. He felt
little tingles from where Legolas’ breath whispered over his ear, and he
shivered.
“Yes, you can,” the Elf finally said, bringing Aragorn’s tear-streaked face
up to meet his own. “We can.”
Aragorn looked longingly into the deep blue eyes of his companion, hoping
that he had heard correctly, hoping that Legolas meant what he so dearly
wanted him to mean.
Leaning forwards ever so slowly, the Elf closed his eyes and captured the
Ranger’s lips in a delicate kiss. After a long moment, he pulled back and
read Aragorn’s expression. Surprise, happiness, and love were etched upon the
face of the Ranger. His hands still intertwined in the Man’s hair; Legolas
closed the gap and kissed him again.
Aragorn’s head began to swim. He forgot about his despair and gave himself
up to the sensual caress of the Elf locked in his embrace. Legolas’ lips
were so soft on his own, his heat warming his heart, as well as his body.
When they parted, Legolas touched his fingertips to the side of Aragorn’s
face in wonder. Of course Legolas had known the touch of another before, but
in all his long years, he hadn’t loved. Until now.
A smile formed on the Ranger’s lips. How long had it been since Legolas had
seen him smile? Too long. His heart swelled at the thought that he could
bring this change in emotion to anyone, especially someone so special to him
as Aragorn.
Yet the feeling of helplessness still sat heavily upon Aragorn. He didn’t
believe that the quick approaching battle would end well for them. He wanted
to believe that they would be victorious by the rise of the sun, but a long,
dark shadow loomed over his heart.
Legolas sensed his ill thoughts and raised his hand to the side of the Man’s
face and stroked back the dark locks and looked deeper into blue eyes.
“My lovely Prince,” Aragorn started, his voice but a whisper, “I thank you for
your kind words and...gestures. I am very troubled and I would not usually
ask this of you...” His words trailed off and he looked away.
The blond Elf sighed but waited silently for him to go on.
“We have known each other for many years, and not once have I needed to lean
on you as much as I do at this moment,” he closed his eyes, the pain was
obvious.
Legolas planted a tiny kiss upon the Ranger’s lips, but did not pull back
entirely, his face mere inches from Aragorns’ as he spoke in the musical
language of his kind, “although you may falter, Aragorn, son of Arathorn,
you will never fade. Your heart is too strong.” At the last words, he placed
his hand on the Man’s chest above the strong beat of his heart. “If ever you
want it, I will give mine to you willingly,” Legolas promised.
“I cannot - ”
“My heart lays with yours already, whether you will it to or not,” he broke
in. He felt the Ranger’s hand raise and cover his own.
“Do you know of what this means?”
The Elf smiled, “I do, and I accept it wholly. My love for you is eternal,
Aragorn, I choose to live a mortal life with you.” A tear formed in Legolas’
eye and began its path down his silken cheek.
Using his thumb, the Man wiped away the tiny drop and leaned into the Elf
for another kiss. All thoughts of war and destruction were swept away as the
overwhelming feeling of belonging settled over them.
Legolas was remotely aware of a hand moving down to the waistband of his
leggings. He opened his eyes and leaned back slightly to look at Aragorn’s
face, “not yet.”
The Man’s brow furrowed as he understood what Legolas meant. He had found
himself wanting to touch the Elven beauty, it had seemed so natural. But
when the words came telling him not to, he felt overcome with embarrassment
and shame.
The Archer saw the expression on his love’s face and berated himself for not
explaining the rejection sooner. He wasn’t rejecting him, how could he be?
“After,” he cooed. “After we defeat the enemy. There is still hope yet.”
This time, Aragorn’s tears were made from happiness.
After the Man had dressed himself in strong chain-mail and strapped his
armour in place, Leoglas smiled at him reassuringly and handed him his
sword. Aragorn took a deep breath and silently thanked the Elf by placing a
hand on his shoulder.
The Ranger would fight single-handedly to win the coming battle if he had to,
with the knowledge that he would be in the company of the loveliest creature
he had ever known afterward. Tonight, he told himself, Helm’s Deep would not
fall.